


The Prisoner's Dilemma

by WesternScribe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A little longing, Angst, Drama, F/M, Jaime's a jailbird, a little smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28807932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WesternScribe/pseuds/WesternScribe
Summary: Lannister reign is done, and dragons rule once again. After rotting in a dungeon for half a year, Jaime is tried, found wanting by the silver queen, and sentenced to death. On the eve of his execution, Tyrion smuggles Brienne into his cell. Can she save him? Will he let her?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 81





	The Prisoner's Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

> A scene from a story I may never finish.

Lord Tyrion turned to her, looking up just before he rotated the key to unlock the door.

"I can give you two hours," he whispered, breath puffing in the frost.

"Two hours?" She expected only moments with him.

"Yes, but not a moment more. There will be a shift in the guards' watch, and it would be best for your meeting to remain undetected."

"I understand."

Lord Tyrion pushed the iron door ajar and stepped aside. "Make your peace." He wouldn't meet her eye and looked anywhere but, which was quite queer. "Give him comfort. I'll ask for another appeal." His gaze flickered to her face and for a moment, she saw the hardness there. "He's my brother."

He said the words as though he needed to assure her of his allegiance, to defend himself in some strange way against an unspoken judgment on her part.

She didn't know how to respond. He was anxious too, that much was clear. He didn't hate Jaime. She knew that. This meeting, his words, renewed her hope.

Bending slightly, Brienne patted his shoulder. "Thank you, my lord."

He nodded. "Go on. Your time is finite. I'll knock thrice upon my return."

Leaving nothing to chance, she hurried into the cell. It was dark and damp, stale, smelled of piss. There was straw on the floor, and she heard the distinct squeak of mice. And still, she was grateful.

"Jaime."

Her torch did not illuminate the entire space. The far side of the room was shadowed. She heard the rustle of chains.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was only a little hoarse. "It was Tyrion, was it not? I knew he'd stick his noseless face in this."

"He's trying to help."

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly, in degrees, but soon the shapes and corners took meaning. He was seated on a small pile of hay, leaning against a wall. His arms were forced behind him, bound undoubtedly.

"You're a fool." He was angry. "He's using you for the Targaryen girl. That's what he does. That's what we do." Jaime sighed. "Why haven't you learned that yet?"

"Jaime listen," as she took steps toward him, she could see his clothes, the same ones he wore in the throne room three days last. They were roughspun, holey, and ill fitting; and even so, not an ounce of his hauteur diminished. It was an aspect of his she loved; bizarre that his pride gave her hope. "He said she would reconsider-"

"Leave." He spat. "You're wasting your breath on my brother."

Brienne knew his aim was to make her angry, so she would leave. She knew him well. He was afraid for her.

Stopping just before his boots, Brienne crossed her arms about her chest and chided him.

"How can you just give up? Don't you care about your own life?"

"I told you to leave." He sneered. It was a whisper from the dark corner of his cell. "You're a damnable stupid wench. My fate is my own."

Brienne felt she could scream. He was chained before her, chained again, and this time he could lose far more than a hand.

"How could you think I would abandon you?" She was beyond perturbed. Her voice cracked. "I will not leave you to die, ser."

Jaime exhaled in irritation. "None of your disagreeable womanly tears now, girl. Take your sword, and your ridiculous dress, and go north. Now-"

"I told you-,"

"Do as I say damn you!" The sound of his voice echoed about the carved stone walls. He sighed and when she blinked, tears fell upon her cheeks. "Brienne," she sank to her knees, onto his lap and he nuzzled his nose against the underside of her jaw. "You never heed me; Gods know why I bother. I'm well aware of what you plan to do."

"Jaime-"

"And I won't let you-"

"You're in no position to let me do anything." He kissed her neck.

"When have ever I been?" He moved his shoulders, pulling against the manacles that secured him to the wall. "Damn these chains." He cursed. "Go north, don't go north, it makes no difference. You'll not champion me, wench. I will face my punishment with mine own hand."

"But-"

"But nothing." He kissed her chin and her bottom lip. She felt his member stiffen beside her thigh. "We've a short time left us, and I don't intend to spend it arguing with you regarding what you're not going to do."

"Jaime," her heartache wore her thin. "I'm not leaving."

He smiled and in the soft orange firelight, it was too beautiful against his shaven face. "I know you're not," he snorted, "but as luck would have it, I am without my hand." He kissed her jaw, the shell of her ear, "you'll have to do most of the work I regret to say."

 _He could die on the morrow and he sits here and jests_. She felt white hot rage for a moment and punched his shoulder, prompting him to hiss.

"That will bruise." He said, voice thick with scorn.

"Good. If you don't die come morning, I'd like to see it."

Jaime laughed, shaking his head as he looked up. His freshly cleaned hair fell in ringlets to the nipple and as he moved, the tendrils caught the torch light, making the gold glisten.

"You're bloody mad, wench. I'd ask if you were pregnant again, but I've been in this hole for six moons they say."

"Jaime, this is important."

"Oh, without question," he smirked, "but so is this." He leaned forth and kissed her, making her aching heart sing as it had not since last they'd been together. His lips were warm, his tongue was soft, and his mouth tasted of oranges and cloves. Daenerys had allowed he and his sister a meal while they were cleaned and prepared for the throne room, for their joint trial.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and his breath tickled her chin, as it had done many times before. "Take off your small clothes."

She rose and did as he bid. He leaned forth when she lifted her dress, as she removed the linen fabric from her private parts and bundled it in her palm. Jaime inhaled and smiled.

"Your cunt smells heavenly, my lady."

She glared at him and he laughed again, wriggling against the chains. "Come here, sit back- yes, like that. I need you to, yes, _just like that_."

She sat and knelt, straddling his hips as she unlaced the roughspun breeches they dressed him in. His penis sprang free as she moved the fabric slightly. It stood upright, pointing at her; and looking at him, looking at it, she felt a sense of longing, heavy and gray around her. She missed this so.

He moved to kiss her neck near the collarbone, the swell of her breasts over her dress. She gasped when his teeth caught her left nipple.

"Is there a way to open that bodice?" His green eyes burned her.

"From the back." She couldn't break his gaze.

"Can you do it yourself?" His eyes sparked.

"No," she breathed. She held his face in her hands, each thumb brushing back and forth against his jaw.

"Damnation." He huffed. "Tear it."

"What-"

"Tear it apart. I'd do it myself were I not bound."

"I'm not ripping my dress." He narrowed his eyes. " _I'm not ripping my dress_." Her words were final.

"Fine. Keep your bloody gown if it pleases you so."

"Jaime-"

"You're cruel to make me beg in such a state. Look at me." He lowered his head for an instant, gesturing to his exposed manhood. "You're a cruel wench indeed."

"Jaime." She exhaled in exasperation.

"I could die come morn."

And just like that, her anger disappeared, replaced by fear. "You won't. Don't say that. Don't-"

He kissed her. It was such a lovely kiss, sweet and gentle, but after a time, he broke away. "You know what to do."

She raised herself on her knees and positioned his penis at her opening. He moaned a little when she touched him, as she held him. His moan grew louder as she sank down, taking him in completely. She held her breath the entire time. She felt right with him there. He filled her up and finally she was whole again. She felt she could cry. How could he ever think she would leave him?

She moved her hips against him. Going slowly at first, just like he taught her, like he encouraged her, like her body bid she do. It was marvelous and she rolled her pelvis in time with each of his thrusts. Brienne panted and moaned and began to plead, and again, she couldn't believe such pathetic sounds came from herself.

She leaned her head back, chest sticking out toward his face, achieving delicious leverage to grind herself harder, faster against him. His grunts mixed with her cries and filled the cell. He suckled her nipples through the stupid linen fabric of her dress, but she didn't care about the wet spots his mouth would leave. That didn't matter. The single thing of import was him. He said her name, muffled against her chest, and drove himself up, deeper into her. She could feel the ridges of his manhood gliding back and forth, in and out of herself, the friction was magnificent, and when he reached a certain point, hit a spot he hasn't touched in too long, she came undone.

"Jaime." She cried out as all thought left her. There was white hot, golden bliss and sensitivity, and her thighs shook, and the pleasure kept coming in waves, as it always had. _How could he ever think I would leave him?_

He grunted loudly and she felt his seed shoot into her, hot and wonderful. She caught her breath before he did his.

"Jaime?" She was anxious. There was a nervousness within her core she couldn't seem to stifle.

"Hmmm?" His eyes were closed, and his smile was lazy.

"Jaime, I..."

"Yes?" He'd the same look in his eye that Tymaios had after he'd finish a feed. He was content, jovial and satisfied. "I don't believe I've told you that I love you." He kissed her jaw. "Well, there you have it." She felt him smirk. "The love of a cripple sentenced to execution come dawn."

"Jaime, I told you not to-"

"I've loved you for a long while." _I love you too. Why can't I say it? Because you're not strong enough, you coward._ "Long before the boy was born."

"I-I'm going to fight for you."

He sighed and shook his head. "You won't."

"Yes I-"

Three quick knocks rapped upon the iron door of the cell. _Tyrion_. _He said he'd come in two hours; surely such time had not passed already._

Jaime hummed. "My brother's come to whisk you away from me." She tied the laces of his breeches. As her fingers moved, he nuzzled the underside of her jaw and kissed her again. "Do go north, Brienne."

She was too frightened to be angry, but she wouldn't show him her fear. She aimed for resolve instead. "I told you-"

"I know what you told me. I'm telling you this. Go north. Mother that boy. Raise him to be better than me." He laughed a little. "That shan't be too difficult."

Tyrion knocked again.

"Best you go before he breaks the door down. Dwarfs can become rather strong under certain circumstances, quite like ants."

"Jaime-"

"Go."

She rose but couldn't move.

"Go now, Brienne."

She made it to the door but turned. His smile was sad. "Go north."

She knocked and the door opened with a gust of wind. Tyrion stood before her, lantern in hand.

"Your time's up." His brows drew together. "I'm sorry." The puckered skin surrounding what was left of his nose was red and angry from the cold.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion." Her cheeks were wet, and tears fell, pooling along the underside of her jaw.

He looked behind her, to Jaime. The brothers regarded each other silently for a moment before the younger closed the door of the cell, returning the older to his solitude.

"This way, my lady. And quickly." He was fast on his stunted legs... or mayhaps she was slow in her grief. "There are eyes everywhere in these tunnels and take no offense when I say you’re rather large to go unnoticed.”

Brienne frowned. “I understand.”

“Good. Our queen has refused my plea but have no fear. I’ve a plan for Jaime.” He glanced back as he walked, over his shoulder. “I pay my debts.”


End file.
